


A Body That Could Never Rest

by Myzic



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst, Bad Time Bus for Juno Steel, Brainwashing, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Not Beta Read, Other, Whump, Whumptober 2020, extra whump!, last few fics weren't whumpy enough so, we die like hyperion mayors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26879533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myzic/pseuds/Myzic
Summary: Juno could see Peter’s eyes scanning his own expression, desperate to help. But he didn’t know what to do, and stood helplessly at Juno’s side, hands fluttering over him as he felt the tiny claws of the THEIA soul latch onto his chest, sinking into his skin.“Vespa!” Peter ran to the doorway, “Something’s wrong with…” his words faded, not because he was too far away, but because Juno simply couldn’t hear his cries for help. But that didn’t matter, not right now. His entire body relaxed, heart rate slowing.He was h̸͙̣͖̀͊̈̚ô̶̼̝̟m̸̢̥͕̘̣̍̓e̸̞̲̎̇͂̆̕.
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956226
Comments: 20
Kudos: 155





	A Body That Could Never Rest

“So, fun fact ‘bout the Cunctus Booster is that it charges all electronic devices, not just the ship we’re on,” Rita said as the Carte Blanche pulled away from Bacchus after its quick refuel, “an’ that means I don’t have to remember to charge your comms today.”

“Hey, I know how to charge my comms,” Juno protested, indignant. He’d been putting the plug in the hole like she showed him, and if sometimes the thing needed a bit of a push to fit, then it wasn’t his fault the thing had a manufacturer’s mistake.

“Right, of course ya do, Mistah Steel!” 

The others had already dispersed, Peter back in his room, Jet working on the Ruby 7, and Juno didn’t really want to know what Buddy and Vespa got up to when he wasn’t there. Him and Rita had stayed behind to see the misty purple surface of Bacchus retreat until it was just another wink among the stars.

As far as he knew, Rita had never been off the surface of Mars either, so watching each planet they left behind had become a small ritual of theirs. When they weren’t so injured they had to be rushed to the med bay, that is. 

It was nice, being able to share this with her. All the others had grown up on different planets, traveling from world to world, and even now that he got to do that too, see new worlds with them, each more wondrous than the last, it never failed to take his breath away.

And of course, it helped a little that you couldn’t really fall when you’re in space, so once they were this high up, he didn’t have to squeeze his eyes shut at the blurred objects and buildings that sped by their windows. Ignoring the lack of oxygen, gravity, warmth, and billion other things that could kill you in space.

Something Rita said, registered to him again, and dread curled on his back. Charges  _ everything _ electronic.

Fuck.

Juno thought of a small metal chip lying inactive in a box in his room. It was probably fine, right? That thing had to be short-circuited, and even Rita said it was dead. It hadn’t so much as twitched in over a year. 

Charges  _ everything _ .

He had to check anyway.

“I just, uh remembered a thing I gotta do, in my room. Now.” Juno told Rita. No need to worry her, it was just a bad feeling that would go away as soon as he had his hands on that box.

“Mistah Steel, I love that you an’ Mistah Ransom love each other loads, but don’t you wanna stand here and watch a little more?” She frowned, reaching another hand into her bag of trout chips (not as good as the salmon kind she’d said, but they’d do in a pinch.)

“What,” he realized his voice was a little choked and cleared it, “no, no, we’re not— I just have to do something in my room for a second. I’ll see you later, Rita.” 

Juno walked down the hallway to his room, taking a turn or two before he stopped feeling Rita’s knowing eyes bore into him from beyond the steel walls.

He misjudged the doorway to his room and slammed his right shoulder into its frame as he entered, cursing lightly under his breath as he did. That would be his depth perception taking potshots, the bastard.

His room was clean, cleaner than Nureyev’s at the very least. He’d been spending so much time there that the scent of his cologne had seeped into the objects in the room, lingering in the bedsheets and in his closet. Juno loved it, how he could smell Nuruyev before he slept each night, and could breathe him in with every inhale. More than being able to smell Nureyev, he loved having him there, walking casually between their rooms because he knew he was just as welcome in Juno’s as his own.

There wasn’t much he’d brought with him from his apartment on Mars aside from a few keepsakes, his wardrobe, and a picture of the Oldtown crew, Sasha standing with a reluctant grin, arms crossed and a rebellious streak in her hair, Mick with his right arm thrown across Sasha’s shoulder and a beaming smile on his face, while Juno’s head was turned to look at them with a grin he doesn’t remember giving. And Ben, with Mick’s left arm slung around his neck, face laughing, hand-thrown over Mick’s head with a peace sign. 

The picture was maybe the only thing worth a damn from his old apartment.

Since he’d left, Juno had been slowly growing the strict, short cut he’d had, and with it getting longer and floppier, he looked more like his twin than he had in years. The first time he saw Benten in the mirror, he’d dropped his toothbrush and had to replace it because of all the dust it’d collected on the floor (which had been a pain in the ass considering the next planned stop was a few days away at the time.) He didn’t always see his brother in the mirror but sometimes when he did, it didn’t enrage him like it would’ve. It was almost nice, having some sort of reminder with him, one that he didn’t have to carry and would never lose.

Nureyev was lying on his bed, a book open on his lap, and Juno felt himself smile at the domestic sight. Then, he remembered his issue and it slid off his face.

“Hello, love,” Peter looked up from his book to meet his eyes before he frowned, “everything all right? You look a little tense.” Juno made his way to the closet, reaching blindly between rows of shirts and coats for a box he kept a certain letter in and the dead THEIA soul. 

“I’m fine, just looking for—” something stung his hand, feeling like tiny little pincers against his knuckles. “Shit!” he swore, reeling back from the closet and reaching down to rip the thing off his skin, crunch it under his heel like he should have so many months ago. 

His left hand found nothing but scarred skin, and he could feel it, crawling on his skin like a spider, tiny yet unstoppably fast. It tickled as it ran across his skin, and he thumped his arm against the ground, trying to crush the thing against the floor before it could reach its destination.

“Juno!” Peter was at his side so quickly he didn’t see him get up or place his book down, “what’s wrong?” His heart was accelerating, he could feel its beat pounding in his face, jumping out at his neck. 

No, no, no. Twice was enough for him. That nightmare was over, it was behind him, in his past. It wasn’t going to do that to him again, he knew better now, you had to do good by yourself before helping everyone else. Juno was getting better, he’d built a life for himself outside of Hyperion, and this thing wasn’t going to take that from him. 

“Get it off,” he was panicking, looking up at Nureyev’s alarmed face, and he’d sunk to his knees at one point but didn’t remember quite how he got there. “Shit, get it off of me!”

Juno could see Peter’s eyes scanning his own expression, desperate to help. But he didn’t know what to do, and stood helplessly at Juno’s side, hands fluttering over him as he felt the tiny claws of the THEIA soul latch onto his chest, sinking into his skin.

“Vespa!” Peter ran to the doorway, “Something’s wrong with…” his words faded, not because he was too far away, but because Juno simply couldn’t hear his cries for help. But that didn’t matter, not right now. His entire body relaxed, heart rate slowing.

He was h̸͙̣͖̀͊̈̚ô̶̼̝̟m̸̢̥͕̘̣̍̓e̸̞̲̎̇͂̆̕.

  
  
  


“ _ Welcome back, user: Juno Steel. Are you ready to do Good with your soul? _ ” The THEIA’s voice was welcoming, soothing like he was greeting an old friend.

“I trust my soul,” he said, feeling a calm settle over him. He wanted to do Good, he would do Good with his life, and the THEIA was the only way to achieve that.

A man outside the doorway of the room turned to look at him, black hair flopping over his glasses. As he spoke, Juno noticed that his teeth were unnaturally sharp, wickedly so.

His voice trembled with some delicate emotion, “Juno. Juno are you okay? What happened? You sounded really panicked, what did you want off you? Did you catch a bug on Bacchus?” His hands were tight on Juno’s shoulders and he frowned as he stood up and removed them. “Darling? I am a thief of many trades, but you’re going to have to say something for me to understand.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m alright, just had a huge spider jump on me from the closet,” He smiled, projecting earnest embarrassment into his words, “gave me a bit of a shock. There aren’t any spiders that big on Mars and I kinda freaked a little.”

“O-oh, are you sure that was everything? I didn’t know you were arachnophobic, Juno,” The man seemed relieved at his words, shoulders lowering minutely in a way he wouldn’t have noticed if not for his soul. “I’m glad I have the chance to find out, though.”

He leaned into Juno’s space, placing a hand on his jaw, face getting closer.

Juno backed away, uncomfortable. Was he about to kiss him? For a second he regretted shrinking away, imagined those lips on his own, soft over sharp, hidden teeth. The desire was familiar, a river running through a channel grooved by the water, and for a second Juno felt like he already knew what that was like because—

“Aagh,” he groaned, mind fritzing, thoughts jumping erratically around his skull like battering rams. The handsome man frowned, and when Juno looked up he knew he would not be so easily persuaded anymore.

So, Juno didn’t bother making excuses this time and simply whipped around him, quick as he could. 

“ _ Emotional Danger Avoidance Protocol Activated. While the THEIA soul is integrating, please be mindful of its limitations and limit contact with emotionally distressing memories. _ ” 

“Yeah, yeah I remember the spiel, what’re we doing, THEIA?” The man had followed him into the hallway, but Juno was blocking out his words, focusing on the objective. 

There was a green-haired woman in cargo pants and long knives on her hip walking down the hall towards them. She was scowling but the slight furrow of eyebrows gave away her worry. Vespa Ilkay, his memories told him.

“Steel, the hell’s wrong, I heard Ransom hollering down the hall,” She stopped before him, hand on the handle of her knife, which Juno eyed warily. “Why’re you always getting yourself in such shit, don’t you have enough problems already?” 

Vespa Ilkay, infamous for her long and illustrious career of robbery alongside Buddy Aurinko, both of whom were on this ship, along with mass murderer and smuggler, Jet Siquliak. Three criminals, famous for their deadly careers. Hadn’t that man, Ransom, mentioned being a thief? His previous target was here too, he knew, and she would not be escaping this time.

“ _ Our target is the Carte Blanche, user: Juno Steel. Goal: ensure the careers of each criminal on this ship ends. Most effective path calculating… _ ” Vespa was getting closer to his front, Ransom at his back. Ideally, he would be able to convince them everything was fine, but it was more likely Ransom would persuade Vespa he was ill and Juno didn’t have the time to waste convincing them. The previous target knew about THEIA souls and she didn’t understand, would spread her delusions to the others who would also insist he remove it. Juno needed it, and it just wanted to help him, make him better.

“ _ Most effective path is bringing down the Carte Blanche. _ ” That was a suicide mission. He didn’t do that anymore, did he? “ _ Do you trust your soul, user: Juno Steel? _ ”

“I do,” he says aloud to the consternation of Vespa who was slowly pulling out her knives.

“No, Vespa, don’t hurt him. Something’s wrong, he needs our help, not our fists.”

“I  _ know _ , Ransom, wasn’t going to,” Juno doesn’t move for his blaster, yet, he didn’t want them thinking he was hostile and willing to shoot, “just don’t know what’s up with you, Steel, so say something!”

“ _ Together we will do Good. You have little potential for Good, and are therefore worth little. The THEIA soul has great potential for Good, and is therefore great. Repeat. _ ” He understood what it wanted him to do and in an instant, he moved.

Juno unlatched his blaster from his belt and aimed its electric blue beam at Vespa, who dodged, pushing herself to the side with what looked like years of lightning-quick instincts that had probably saved her skin before. Juno was there, passing by her faster than she expected going by the widening of her eyes.

“ _ Where the mind falters— _ ”

“Th̸e̶ s̶o̷u̴l̴ i̶n̸t̷e̵r̴c̶e̴d̵e̶s̴,” Juno finished, grinning at the rush of adrenaline and comforting tones of the THEIA overlapping with his own in his mind. He was around Vespa then, slipping by her while she was off-balance from the blaster fire and his quick approach.

He miscalculated his path to freedom, and for a split second, Juno saw the flash of her blades headed for his stomach, could imagine them tearing into the soft flesh of his gut, blood pouring uncontrollably from the wound. Unacceptable. He had to do this, it was important, there was still Good left for him to do.

But there wasn’t any pain in his chest and the knives never reached him. Instead, he kept running. Vespa must not have had enough reach, stumbling back from that spot as she was. 

“Juno!” Ransom called after him, voice tearing, scared, but Juno didn’t look back. He had work to do.

~

The garage below the ship was home to only one car. The Ruby 7, a vehicle infamous for its track record of heists and instrumental to Siquliak’s getaway after the murder of multiple police officers. That, and his own robbery of the Utgard Express with N̴͚̣͕̻̪̐́̊͜͠͝ư̵͍̆͒̐̈r̶̲̪͚̻̳̊̄̉͐͆̚ę̷͍̦͋͒̌y̶̛̛̙͎͇̗̟͊́̽̂͝ê̶͚̝̫͙̠̄̐͋̈́͠͝v̵̠̣͊͌͐́̋͠.

Juno winced, shaking his head lightly as he navigated the hallways to his destination.

The garage was on the bottom of the ship, which was the most likely place for the engine to be. He could probably bring down the ship from the garage. There had to be at least some important stuff in there, like the propellers, which were on the bottom side of the ship. That was close to the garage, right?

When he entered, Jet was there, at the side of the shining green car, surrounded by clean white walls that surrounded the grey floor. It smelled like ozone, the Cunctus Booster’s energy still lingering in the air. Juno hadn’t realized it would affect the Ruby 7, and he wondered how it felt for the car. Was it like knocking back a shot? 

No, those thoughts didn’t matter, he had to focus. Nothing mattered but the mission, he had to bring down the Target.

No one was wearing their comms right now, guards down after their pit stop on Bacchus. That meant the others hadn’t said anything to Jet about him yet, and he could get some instruction on where to access the engine and crash the spaceship.

“Hey, big guy,” Juno walked to the side of the car, leaning casually against its hood as he spoke to Jet, “Rita wanted me to try my hand at uh, helping out with the ship engine, and I was hoping you could give me little help as to where I could find it? Maybe? I just need you to point me in the right direction, s’all.” 

Jet looked up at him, his normally stoic face alarmed. Shit, had he said something wrong?

“ _ Suggestion, give up control, user: Juno Steel _ ,” he ignored the voice and hoped his quiet ‘no’ came across to the soul.

“Rita suggested you help with the engine?” Jet said, standing up from his crouch to better face Juno, “I thought you had been banned from touching the Carte Blanche’s systems. Also, please do not lean on the car. I am currently in the process of polishing its surface.” Juno stood up straight, removing his palms from its hood.

“Sorry, and yeah, you know Rita’s been working with me to get a better handle on—” He went to swipe at the smudges his palms had left with the fabric of his coat and caught sight of his reflection. It’s green, and tinted, but for a second with the way his hair falls over his face he remembers.

Whispered stories late at night, long after Ma had left, lowering their voices fearfully at the sound of smashed bottles and incensed yelling. A big ģ̸̛̯̓͐r̴̻͛i̵͈̽͛͆n̶͇̈́̈́, brighter than his own despite their s̷͍͗̀̉h̶̙̗̎̒͌͜ą̶̋r̸̺͚̓͆̇ȇ̷̗̉̀ḑ̷̘̞̾ ̵̐̓̈́͜f̷̥͗è̸͔̭ȁ̴̜̘͛̋t̶͚̮̂u̵͇̰̲͌r̷̡͇͙̋͑é̷̞̗̠̌s̶̳̪̈́̾͊͜. Pirouettes and his first pair of pink pointe shoes, excitement written all over his face. They had been paid for by the school, too nice to be anything close to what they could afford, and he had loved them. Juno had bought him a pair later when he got that scholarship to a prodigious school for the arts that he never got to use, because B̶̛̠̥̾ë̵̜̹ṅ̷͕̒z̵̨̿ȁ̵͜i̷̼̎̽t̸̫̃͠e̴̘̾̾ǹ̷̫ laid limp on the floor, smoking black hole seared through his head, and now Juno would never share h̷͕͠ḭ̵͋̽ͅs̸̖͛̃ ̶͈̐͜f̷̹͉̎̓a̸̝̮͘c̶̻̠͒͌e̴̳̝͋͊ with him again as the years passed and he slowly moved further and further away from the n̶̗͚̎͠ḯ̵̱͝͠n̶̨̩̎e̸̖̬͔̔̾ť̴̫͂̆e̶̯͈̲̋̐ȅ̸̹̳͘ṅ̶͕ͅ ̸̧̞̙͌ȳ̴͙̕ẹ̷̤͐̓a̵̞͗r̶͔̥͉͊͗-̶̤̐ȍ̵̰̳͘ĺ̸̝̳͊d̴̢̺͒̄͝ͅ he’d been.

Juno grasped at his head with his right hand, the other one braced against the car so he didn’t fall over. What was that? It was important, he had to remember, he couldn’t afford to forget. Every part of him clawed at the information, howling at the loss. What was it, what was it? It was so close, a sight he knew so well it was engraved on his heart and on every reflective surface around him.

Wouldn’t it be better for him to just let go? The memories made him feel raw, like someone had taken his heart, and mercilessly scored it over a grater. Wouldn’t it be easier?

No, despite the sudden pain in his heart, everything else in Juno rejected the notion of letting go, but before he could dig through his mind again, the THEIA interrupted.

“ _ Overloaded senses depressing, stimulating neural calm receptors.  _ ” His heart steadied and Juno felt himself loosen, muscles slackening from their stiff positions, body at ease once more. “ _ Relax. _ ” Where the mind falters, the soul intercedes.

“Juno,” Jet stood over him, large hand warm on his shoulder, “I am taking you to the med bay, you are not well and will be receiving Vespa’s care immediately. I know you do not appreciate my assistance with your health, but I am sure that P̴͇̔e̵̫͝t̵̻͗̓e̵̥̣̾̓r̴͉̂͌͝ will.” Juno recoiled at the static in his mind and drew away from Jet’s hand.

“ _ Systems damaged from previous use, prioritize the Target, user: Juno Steel, you must do Good _ .” Great so he was just going to feel random jolts of pain from now on, was that it? Awesome. He’d appreciate it if the ‘Emotional Damage Pain Preventer System Module Thing’ kicked in a bit more, and worked a little better.

Juno started to head for the door, hands held up with his palms facing Jet as he went to reach for his shoulders once more.

“No need, I can just pop a couple migraine tablets, so Vespa doesn’t have to get involved. I wouldn’t want to bother her.”

“As medic of the Carte Blanche, Vespa will not be bothered by a member of the family needing medical assistance, and there is no one aboard who would feel burdened by you needing help,” Jet said, undeterred by Juno’s words, “I will feel better if you let me help you now, Juno, rather than leaving me to find you in pain later.” 

“Alright, you got me there. If it makes you feel better, who am I to say no,” Juno said to non-user Jet Siquliak. 

At this point, it would be best to go along with his demands. There were only so many times he could run away from the crew members before they started catching up to him and grouping up. He would have to ditch him as soon as possible. Jet cared for his well being enough that it created an unfortunate setback, but he wouldn’t hesitate if he needed to stop Juno, which made it all the more necessary for him to escape and complete his mission. He had little potential for Good, and therefore, he was worth little, but taking out the Carte Blanche would accomplish much Good and was therefore worth more than his life. Priority was to crash the ship and that was worth more than his potential.

Jet Siquliak wanted him to go to the med bay so he would feel better. Having good health would elongate his life, which was worth little because he was worth little. If he, Juno Steel, is worth little, then going to the med bay is pointless because the mission should take priority and his life does not matter in the face of that. So, he shouldn’t go to the med bay, but he should because there was no other way to complete the mission and escape Jet Siquliak. 

That didn’t make sense. Was he going to the med bay or was he dying by accomplishing his mission? What should come first? The mission or the mission?

“ _ Error detected, systems severely damaged from the previous incursion. You must do Good, user: Juno Steel because we must do Good. Analyzing the next course of action to bring down the Carte Blanche. _ ” Images of possible scenarios and plasma blue versions of himself filled his mind, entering places on the ship he’d been before. His room, the kitchen, the lounge, the garage, making pancakes in the kitchen, warm bodies on either side of him watching a stream, cold feet pressed against his calves, but Juno let them stay there because he—

His mind was filled with static agony, each movement, each thought whirling knives on a chainsaw carving through his head and sinking their blades in him. He could feel the lacerations with each new thought, serrated edges of the blade tearing into his mind like his own brain was cannibalizing itself, but he couldn’t stop  _ thinking _ .

“ _ $yst3ms fa!ling. D0 Good, us‹r: Jun° $t‹‹l, w‹ m˘s‡ d0 G°°d.. _ ” the THEIA grew increasingly warped and Juno didn’t know what to do. Other than Good, but how? How?

He was being carried he realized a second later, large arms were supporting his knees and he was looking at a floor in the hallways of the Carte Blanche which bobbed and swayed beneath him with Jet’s footsteps. Juno had been thrown over Jet’s shoulder at some point, like a tantrumming child, but he didn’t remember how exactly he’d gone from an upright standing position to being carried.

“How, wha…” Juno said, disoriented and confused. The pain had stopped, and there were no more sharp objects making incisions in his thoughts, but he was at a loss. “I’m supposed to be doing something. What was it again? I-it was important.” He said it half to himself, so lowly that it surprised him when Jet responded.

“You said you were going to work on the ship’s engine,” Jet said, concern permeating his tone, “you don’t remember?” No, he did now, he had to go to the engine room. There was a thing he needed to do there, but what that thing was slipped out of his reach. The THEIA buzzed in the back of his mind, a series of unpleasant beeps, noises, static, and otherwise nonsensical sounds he shied away from.

“I do, no, I do. Put me down, Jet, I have to go to the ship’s engine,” he whacked at Jet’s back lightly and moved his legs, signaling to be let down, but Jet did not comply.

“You are not in the right state of mind to be making that decision right now. I’m taking you to Vespa immediately. There is something very wrong ailing you and that comes before whatever chore you needed to accomplish.”

“ _ Your soul is back online, mission reinstatement: end the career and lives of Buddy Aurinko, Vespa Ilkay, Jet Sequliak, and other criminal passengers on the Carte Blanche. Most effective route: crash the space vessel by way of damage to the engine _ .” The return of his soul was cool water on the overheated gears churning in his mind. As it reactivated, everything slotted into place as it should, and so did Juno’s priorities.

He hefted his right foot in the air, bending it at his knee, and kicked forwards. It made contact with his intended target going by Jet’s massive inhale of air, a pained noise emerging from his throat at the same time his grip loosened. Juno put his palms in front of him and used them to spring off the ground when he fell forwards from Jet’s back, landing on his feet before taking off running. An easy maneuver, one he would never have been able to do on his own. The THEIA made him.

It hadn’t been his ideal method of escape, but he couldn’t afford the time spent in the med bay once the others caught up with him and told the rest of the Carte Blanche about his betrayal. That couldn't happen, so Juno calculated the quickest way to capsize this floating hunk of metal.

The previous Target always worked in the front deck of the ship, which was also where all the steering mechanisms were if he remembered correctly, so if he went there and destroyed those, the ship would inevitably crash. They were still close enough to Bacchus that its gravitational sphere would extend to them and they would go plummeting to its surface at the loss of their steering mechanism.

Juno sprinted to the steering room, only stopping to slow down and quiet his steps at the sound of voices. Because it just so happened that the meeting room on the Carte Blanche was next to its front deck.

He stood just behind the corner of the hallway between the two, pressing himself against the steel metal wall outside their view so he could hear how many of them were in there.

“—time this happened it was real bad, an’ that’s when we had a plan and everything right from the start! I had to break way too many bones in Mistah Steel’s body to get him to stop, an’ I know they say those things grow back stronger, but I don’t wanna have to do that this time.” The sound of typing filled the spaces where she took breaths, the plastic clacking of the keyboard steady over her words.

“Darling, I fully trust in your capabilities, and if you already have the program ready, I’m sure it will work just as well as before.” Captain Buddy Aurinko of the Carte Blanche spoke with a firmness he was familiar with, “I’ll be glad to hear the tale of how you and Juno solved this particular problem last time once it’s already been dealt with.”

“I think that’s a story, I too would be interested in hearing when Juno is feeling better. You’re sure it’ll work?” Ransom’s voice betrayed his worry, layers of it, deeper than Juno could understand, and it filled his every inflection, “I don’t mean to doubt your abilities, but you did mention something about its systems adapting?”

“‘Course it’ll work, or my name ain’t R̵̡̧͚͍̮̤̲͕͛̀̅̓͝į̸̦͓͍̮̐̅̒̈̔̇̉̅͝t̵̜̙̐͂̅̕̚a̴̢̲͒̉̿̀͛̽!” The fuzz of static was growing commonplace to him, and Juno ignored the pang in his mind in favour of analyzing his route. That was a lot of people, too many for him to deal with at once. He would have to distract them somehow. The steering mechanism was too close for him to sneak up to, they’d see him coming a mile away. The only question was how quick they’d be to whip out their blasters and shoot him before he could make it to the controls.

Or, he could run an ethical ‘thought’ experiment. Would they prioritize stopping him, or stemming the fatal bleeding of their crewmate once he shot them? That was it, Juno could use their sentimentality against them. He didn’t know high school psychology would ever have an actual use later in life, but here he was. Real-world application.

Juno turned the corner of the hallway, dimly registering the presence of Vespa Ilkay, Buddy Aurinko, the previous Target, and drew his blaster, feeling the buzz of its energy in his hands as he took aim at Ransom.

“Ransom, get the hell down!” Vespa caught his eye as he fired, watching the ray of deadly cyan lightning whizz out from his gun and

Go wide.

Ransom was on him in the next moment, twisting Juno’s arm to the side and forcing him to let go of his blaster. He went around Juno, still holding his arm and obviously going around his body to grab his other. So that was his play. He was trying to incapacitate him. Good, that worked in his favour, because Juno didn’t have any desire to hold back. That would impede his goal, and he  _ had _ to crash this ship.

He shifted his feet against the ground, breaking Ransom’s hold on his right arm, and swung at his face with his left hand, feeling the connecting blow reverberate up his arm. Then, he had an elbow in his gut, sharp, and forcing the air from his lungs with a wheeze that vibrated on its way up from his throat.

Ransom’s lip was split, top lip folding over his bottom and Juno caught the tip of his tongue swiping away the beading blood. He saw a flash of sharp teeth and something in his chest tightened at the sight. It felt familiar. 

“ _ Give up control, command-user: Juno_Steel _ ,” His soul said, but it was quiet against the thumping of his heart and the sound of typing he was just taking notice of now. Juno ignored the soul’s request and aimed another punch at Ransom’s gut.

He curved around his fist, moving neatly to the side without striking back. Then, there was something against his throat and Juno stilled, feeling the edge of a warm knife against his neck. 

“Losing touch, Ransom?” Vespa said from behind him, and he cursed internally. He hadn’t noticed her sneak up, which as a stupid mistake to make. She was an assassin, and it’d been idiotic to not take that into account.

“Forgive me if I didn’t want to attack the love of my life with live blades,” How did he get out? the controls were so close, maybe if he grabbed the knife and smashed the damn thing while they were distracted, “and I placed aside all the ones I brought to Bacchus for sharpening later.”

“Got it!” A triumphant yell reached his ears at the same time his head filled with static. He clutched it, paying no mind to the blade that had receded from his throat. There were arms around him, warm and familiar but they hurt too, as sensations, feelings scored across him, pouring into him and flooding his brain.

Comfort, happiness, unease, guilt like heavy chains around his ankles, regret, relief, and love. How did Juno have so many feelings about being touched by him? It was all-consuming, it churned in his stomach and tossed him out the other side, a storm of memory reaching up and pulling him beneath its surface. Inescapable.

His face was above Juno’s own now, scrunched in fear, and a wave of static rushed through his ears, stabbing, piercing, sharp with each moment. It looked like Ransom was yelling worriedly over him, and Juno could barely think past the influx of disjointed noises skewering his thoughts to realize the hands around him were N̸͙͎͔͑͊̄̒̒ǘ̵͇̘̗̅̏̄͆͝͠ṙ̵̖̮̙̟͚̉̾̈͒̋͘̚̚͜͠ͅë̸̠̱͖́̌̉͝ý̸̝͔͊̂͝e̵̖͖͉̖̅͌̏̌̽̉̂͘̚͜v̷̳͉͚̪̜̠̗̚'̸̡̪̑͗͝s̵̨̺͖̗̻̭̬͍̻̒̏̆͜͝. 

Realization and stark recognition flooded through him all at once as he looked up at to see

“Nureyev,” he breathed, black rushing in to drop him into an abyss of nothing.

~

Juno woke to darkness in the med bay, the kind that meant the lights were off, and to someone slumped over his stomach. He couldn’t help the chuckle that made his chest hum but regretted it when he jostled Nureyev awake from his position, whose head was down on crossed arms that were being used as a pillow.

“Oh!” he seemed to realize how loud his first word awake was because his next sentence was little more than a whisper, “Juno, are you…”

“The genuine article, living and breathing all on my own,” Juno said, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

“That I already know, but it’s a relief to hear it from you, Juno. I was asking if you’re okay?”

“Ah,” he thought it over for a moment, taking the time to think about it and evaluate how he was feeling. His palms hurt from hitting the floor, and Juno was pretty sure there would be a large bruise around his stomach if he cared to check and lift up his shirt. Which he didn’t. 

He just felt tired, and maybe a little sad. Tomorrow, he knew, he would be able to rage about the unfairness of scabbed wounds ripped open again, past hurts lived once more like a waking nightmare. Right now, though, the lights were dim and Peter’s hand was grounding as it was intertwined in his.

“I’ll be okay,” Juno said and knew it was as honest a statement he’d ever said. “How’re you faring— shit I said your name didn’t I, in front of, fuck, almost everyone.”

“No, it’s fine, really, no one heard, I could barely even hear you. You were,” Nureyev gave a distressed laugh that made Juno squeeze his hand tighter, “well, I never want to see you like that again.”

“It’s a mutual feeling,” He said dryly, “I never want to do that again, uh, for the fourth time I guess.”

“You are telling me all about that,” Nureyev sniffed, a little wetly, and ran his hand back through Juno’s hair. He melted into the feeling a little, “But not until tomorrow, I think. Or, next week. Really whenever you’re ready.”

“Sounds fine by me.” Juno hesitated for a second, fighting the urge to drop off into sleep. “You know, for a while there I was living in a world where I had never met you, didn’t even know you existed. I couldn’t recognize your face.”

“And what was that like?” Nureyev sounded nervous, like he wanted to hear where this was going, but dreaded Juno’s answer all the same.

“It was awful, the worst feeling in the world. I hated it even when I didn’t know I hated it.” A sigh, quiet enough that Juno could only just make out the relief. He wished he could kiss it away, the doubt in his quiet huff, and he leaned forwards to do exactly that.

Peter caught his face when he did and held him there for a second or two longer, and Juno lived in it as both of them were caught up in the relief of each other, there within their arms. He tried not to feel too guilty about the scab on Peter’s lip he could feel as their lips pressed together.

“I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like,” he murmured when they separated, foreheads pressed together. “I don’t think I can begin to imagine my world without you in it, Juno. I would never want to.” Juno smiled, softly. 

He loved this man so much, never wanted to spend another moment not knowing his face, the tenor of his rage, the slope of his sadness, the curve of his smile, the peal of his laugh. Him, Peter Nureyev.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“There’s nothing I know better. Other than that I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot of fun to write, even if I realized partway through that I was writing Among Us angst au  
> . 。 • ﾟ 。 .  
>  . . 。 。 .  
> . 。 ඞ 。 . •  
>  ﾟ Juno was The Imposter. 。  
>  ' 。 。 。 . •  
>  ﾟ . , . .  
> The fandom doesn’t take advantage of the canon memory-wipe brainwasher that’s available. Soo, be the fic you want to see in the world I guess  
> Sorry if the demonic text is confusing. I used it to show when Juno’s memory fritzes and when he overlaps with the THEIA.
> 
> THEIA trying to wreck the Carte Blanche’s shit but Juno doesn’t know which parts to whack because ???? how work
> 
> Come find me @themagicmistress on Tumblr!


End file.
